


Can you hear me?

by Wonderwhale



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blind Character, Boarding School, Deaf Character, Disabled Character, Friendship, Gen, Original Fiction, Self-Discovery, a LOT of references, i guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22649200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderwhale/pseuds/Wonderwhale
Summary: Sam Woodson, the son of the one the many movie industry's golden couples, disappeared for almost a month, leaving behind a group of friends, confused and worried. Now he's back, but something isn't the same anymore. The aftermath of the accident and it's forever-lasting effects are still fresh in the young boy's memory and he doesn't want to burden his friends. This leads them down a road of misunderstandings, self-doubt and some new acquaintances.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

Prologue, Only they are allowed to break the silence

A car was driving on a dark road. Any person with tolerable vision (or spectacles) could identify a car as a taxi. However, either insider information or astonishingly accurate fortune teller gifts are needed to identify who is in the car. A man, two women, and an almost teenage boy. Fortunately, however, we do have insider information. Most people in the Western world would be able to name the man sitting in the car. Hugo Woodson had played many popular roles on the big screen and his bright blue eyes were on the cover of several box office hits. One of the women in the car was also often found in these movie covers but in the form of a name instead of a face. Fewer recognized her face as it was usually behind the cameras, but Molly Woodson's films were familiar to many.

The other woman in the taxi, was completely unknown and completely irrelevant to this story. Lilly O'Higgins just happened to be the lucky taxi driver who wouldn't just get a nice salary from the 60-mile drive to Limerick and back to Shannon Airport from where they left. No, on top of that, she would share the trip with two celebrities and their son. At the end of the trip, however, she would be handed two of two hundred euro notes and asked not to tell anyone about this journey. But it was the most unforgettable shift in Lilly's career.

As I said before, in addition to three adults, there was also a boy in the car. Of all the people introduced to you, he deserves the most attention. He could even be called our main character. This boy wasn't very well known in the world and only a fraction of the people who saw his face would say "Hey, that's Molly and Hugo Woodson's son!". However, if the speaker were to tell the boy's parents' names and they had recently been reading the tabloids, he would know exactly what had happened to the boy. Less than a month was not long enough for the gossips to stop. At times, it seemed like no time was long enough for them to stop. At times, the world still remembered scandals that happened several decades ago.

The boy had inherited his mother's curly brown hair and his father's blue eyes. The car headlights wiped the dark road and those eyes looked out of the window without seeing anything. The boy's head rested on his mother's shoulder and he would have fallen asleep soon after the car had started - about twenty minutes ago - if e didn't hurt everywhere. Or well, maybe not everywhere. The boy was very sure that his right arm did not hurt, but as a counterweight, his left leg ached with double the pain. His throat still felt like a cruel cross between sandpaper and the Sahara desert. His mother's gentle hand stroked through her son's brown hair, but it was not enough to soothe the throbbing pain. The boy was still forced to admit, that it felt comfortable.

"We're about to arrive, Sammy," the understandably sad mother whispered to her quiet son's ear, breaking the long silence. Molly wouldn't have wanted to let her baby boy out of her sight. Less than a month ago, he had been rushed to the hospital and now she was supposed to leave her kid in another country. Hugo was not any happier about the situation, even the blind would see the man's gloomy expression and how the man was constantly turning on the front bench to look at his son. A boy who had been sitting in the same position the whole time. Despite their concerns, both parents knew this was the best solution. Sam would have to go back to school or the boy could fall behind. The doctors had determined that the boy was fit enough to travel from London to Limerick, to Ireland, to a boarding school. He would only be there for a few weeks and come home for Christmas. Yes, their little Sammy could do it. Sam was a strong one.

Still, the couple was worried. Sam (this is the name of the boy in the taxi, though it's just a short version of Samuel) was not very excited about his return to school. However, the reasons for his sorrows differed greatly from those of his parents. Sam knew he could survive for a few weeks with aggressive doses of painkiller, and he trusted the school's nurses and their ability to take him to Limerick Hospital if needed. Nor did the boy worry about the pile of test waiting for him nor returning to the lessons. No, his concerns were something else. He had messed up badly. And Sam had no idea how to fix the situation. Could it even be repaired?

From the middle of the darkness rose a castle. If this had been the first time the small family in a taxi had seen the castle, they would probably have been greatly impressed. It was not their first time. A taxi curved off the road to a parking lot. Although there were plenty of cars on the field, there would have been room to triple the number of them, and the taxi could easily slip as close to the castle's main doors as possible. When Hugo finally stepped out of the car, he could have walked to the door a few steps. However, he did not take those few steps but hurried to open the back door and help Sam out of the taxi. Sleepy fingers squeezed around the crutches. Despite fatigue and pain, the pale pale child was able to stand in the cold open air.

Sam couldn't help but shiver from the wind. He took both of his crutches in his left hand and carefully lifted the hood to cover his head. This didn't help much at all, but the howling wind no longer the only thing he could hear. The rustle of clothes and wind prevented Sam from hearing Molly talking to the taxi driver. He did not hear his father lifting the suitcase from the back of the car. The sound of a car door slamming shut, startled him, and careful turning of his head revealed his mother, who had gotten out of the car. The warm hand on the boy's shoulder again belonged to his father who was ready to bring his child inside. Sam wasn't ready but began to make his way cautiously toward the big doors. The taxi stayed in place. Lilly O'Higgins would most likely never meet that boy again. But she doesn't matter, she was just an anonymous taxi driver.

The trip from the main door to the principal's office was not long enough to even be called a trip. Although none of the Woodsons was aware of this, their arrival did not go unnoticed by the inhabitants of this castle. This was not just any castle. It was a school for teenage stars and those who wanted to become a one. The boarding school is full of talent in numerous fields. Sam had been at this school for a year and a half, and I hope there were several more to come. And the students at this school did recognize Molly and Hugo Woodson. Some could also use this information to name the hunched figure walking along with them. Sam wasn't loud about his background. He never was. Now, the dark green hood served another purpose. Don't be identified, at least not immediately. The gossip had already reached the inhabitants of the highest tower of the castle by the time they entered the office.

Although the clock was already closer to midnight than 6 p.m., they were expected in the office. Hugo was taken care of it. Nicky (last name unknown) was the principal of this school and extremely understanding of Sam's situation. The blond-haired woman pulled a soft armchair for him to sit in during their chat. Sam didn't listen. His parents talked for a long time and three adults discussed all kinds of things about Sam's condition and care. Things that Sam should have listened to, but the pounding of his heart in his ears and the desire to fall asleep in that very comfortable armchair filled all of the child's thoughts. Someone should go through things with him. Maybe tomorrow, or at least after the next cocktail of painkillers.

"Are you still awake, honey?" Mom's soft voice echoed from far away into Sam's ears. The boy raised his blue eyes to meet the warm brown eyes they had encountered for as long as the young boy could remember. Sam didn't speak. He nodded gently and let out a slight jerk as the motion caused a spike of pain in his sore throat. The speech ban would last another week. Sam had secretly tried to talk the night before. The attempt had hurt almost as much as the plaster-lined foot. The sound that came out could be recognized as speech and Sam was able to mutter, but the boy did not recognize the sound. "I am Sam Woodson". He did not dare to tell his mother and father in the morning, but he was scared. The boy was scared that he would no longer sound like a human being. The boy was scared that no one would recognize him anymore and all his former friends would disappear if he couldn't speak correctly. But on the other hand, talking wasn't the only thing Sam couldn't do right.

His father's strong hands helped him stand up. Now Sam could go to his room. He would get to lay down in his bed and he would finally take the evening medicine and he might even be able to fall asleep. The lift rose to the seventh floor without interruption. Three adults and a child stood without saying a word. Nicky shook hands with Molly and Hugo, wished Sam a good night and told him to wake her up if something should happen. Then the woman disappeared. She had left for her apartment, where a husband and a (hopefully sleeping) toddler would be waiting for him. However, Sam and his parents were heading in a different direction. The second-year student's living room was almost empty, which was not surprising given the time of day and tomorrow morning is a school morning. Sam didn't notice it, but Molly's motherly instincts wanted to tell the trio sitting by the fireplace to shut down their laptops and go to bed.

This time, those students only avoided the mother, thanks to Sam. The boy was rushing towards the dorms. At his door, Sam dug a keychain out of his trouser pocket and unlocked the door. His parents followed their son into his room. The place seemed a bit untidy to adults; a queen-sized bed was unmade, an armchair in the corner was covered by a pile of laundry, Ikea's box shelf was full with miscellaneous books, papers and small goods, and on one shelf there were several dozen empty 0.5-liter bottles of soda. The surfaces of the room had accumulated dust and a dark green carpet had changed its colour because of all the blond dog hair. They had all agreed that at that very moment, Thor would do better at home in London, so the dog was not able to accompany his owner to Ireland for the end of the semester.

Hugo lowered the suitcase to the end of the bed. For a moment, all three stood quietly in the middle of the messy room, all deep in their thoughts. The silence was not awkward. No, it was sad. This moment meant t a difference. It meant a new life. Change. Finally, his mother pulled Sam into a warm hug, to which he responded by wrapping his arms tightly around his mother despite the crutches. The boy breathed the familiar scent of his mother. Coffee and apples. His father also wrapped his arms around both of them and pressed his cheeks to his wife's brown hair. For a while, Sam enjoyed the warmth of his mother and father. For that little moment when Sam could imagine everything was fine. He's perfectly fine. The boy felt perfectly safe, embraced by his mother and father.

But nothing lasts forever. Eventually, the adults had to let go of their beloved son. Give him some space. The mother wiped a small tear from her son's cheek.  
“Don't cry, honey, soon it's Christmas and you'll be back home. And then you can talk as well and everything is much better, ”Mom pressed a kiss on Sam's forehead and started to walk toward the door that remained open, with a dull expression on his face. Father put his warm hand on his son's shoulder and told him to message and call every day as soon as he could.  
"And remember to behave, monkey", Dad shuffled Sam's hair and the Woodson couple left, leaving Sam alone for the first time in a month. And Molly went to tell the kids in the living room to go to bed, Sam would never know.

The boy's thoughts were somewhere else than his unlucky classmates. He pondered the day ahead and the terrible situations it promised. He wondered about his friends who knew nothing of what had happened to Sam. What could Sam tell them? Slowly, Sam reached for the suitcase and dug out of the bag full of medicine packets. He dug a handful of different pills according to a familiar formula. Slowly but surely, Sam managed to balance himself in the bathroom and take a cup of water. One by one, he swallowed every pill. The figure in the bathroom mirror didn't look familiar. The skin was an unhealthy shade of pale, the hair was strangely dull, and the bright blue eyes weren't as bright as they should have been. His neck was covered with patch-like bandages under which would hide two scars. Sam turned his back to the mirror and returned to the main room.

He dropped his jacket in the middle of a furry carpet and tore off the plastic bag and the big wool sock that had covered his left leg. Next, a warm winter shoe from the right foot was thrown across the room, followed by a forest green scarf. Sam couldn't be bothered to do anything for the rest of his clothes, and so he pressed his head against the pillow in his day clothes. However, something felt uncomfortable as he tried to find a good position on the pillow. He had forgotten for a moment. Silence. The silence made everything feel normal. In the silence, it was easy to forget. The silence did not change at all. 

Contrary to all the whispering sounds in Sam's head, he refused to throw them out the window and instead placed the hearing aids carefully on the bedside table. Mom and Dad would be disappointed. Sam rested his head on the pillow and fell asleep all in the same breath.


	2. How to hide disabilites 101

Vilma Zirpol's life was now mainly in control. She went to the school of her dreams, had several close friends, and she had no problem with nuts for the last couple of months. However, I say "mainly in control". Vilma's life had had a crack for weeks now. The same crack plagued her as well as her closest friends. He could see it in Ben's sad glances, which he - probably by now unnoticed - made to space next to him. Vilma saw it in Rose's more silent nature. Everything seemed strangely silent, even though the quietest of them all was gone. Sam. It's been three weeks since Sam disappeared. Or no, the boy had not disappeared, per se. He just never came back. And unfortunately (fortunately?), they knew why. Sam hadn't contacted them for almost a month, but they knew. Their friend's parents were famous, downright celebrities. It was as if Vilma's worst nightmares had come true when she was shown the headlines.

"Molly and Hugo Woodson's family faces a tragedy - Brother and son rushed to hospital"

"Actress Bobby Harvey released from hospital - nephew's situation still unknown"

"7 Facts You Didn't Know About Bobby Harvey and Samuel Woodson’s car crash"

“Molly and Hugo Woodson on their son's condition - serious injuries”

“Will Samuel Woodson recover? Watch the Nurse's Interview ”

Vilma read all news. Most of them repeated each other, but Vilma couldn't do anything else but read. What if this reporter had found out something no one else had? The news had not yet reached the tabloids when the school's own gossip reached Vilma. He had been writing her history essay when someone knocked on her door. Aggressively. Behind it, was Rose. Vilma couldn't read her friend's expression. There was a mixture of joy, sadness and anger in the face of the taller girl.  
"Vilma! Vilma, guess what I heard! ”  
Vilma guessed. Rose nodded. Relief took over Vilma.  
“Does Ben know?” Rose shook her head, "Come on, Ben needs to hear too."  
It took a moment for the boy with the red hair to open the door. Vilma saw an open laptop behind him and she could recognize Ben's programming app even in her dreams. Normally she might ask what the boy was doing. This was far, so far from normal.  
“Is everything ok? You look like you've seen a ghost”, Ben ran his fingers through his hair with a distracted look on his face.  
"Molly and Hugo Woodson have been seen here at school with a kid with crutches."

Ben's distraction was gone immediately.

~ ^ ~

Despite all the desperate wishes, requests and prayers, Sam woke up Wednesday morning from his bed in Aisling. Who in the Woodson family had figured out to put an alarm on his phone and, and at the right time, shall remain as a mystery (it was Molly, of course…). Too loud ringing to even Sam’s ears faced its premature end in the hands of a very tired and extremely distressed teenager, faster than the phone addict runs to the nearest charger as per cents approached too close to zero. The beginning of the first lesson would be in 74 minutes. If Sam wanted to do all of his morning routines in peace, he would only need an hour, but due to the current difficulties, some genius (Molly ...) had given him fifteen minutes of extra time. Which he was by no means about to use.  
That morning, Sam was in the mindset where staying in bed and getting an unauthorized absence sounded like a good idea. No. The best idea possible. 70 minutes before the first lesson, Sam's phone begun its ringing again. This eventually made our protagonist sigh deeply and forced himself to stand upright. It must be completely pointless to point it out separately, but almost every part of Sam's body ached. Most of all, of course, the foot in the cast, but the boy's temples did a very good job in second place. His neck felt stiff and Sam was very tempted to twist his head a bit and crack a couple of joints, but he knew from experience that that motion was a very, very bad idea.

Instead of cracking his joints, Sam ended up making his way to the bathroom. We can leave him alone for a moment and look at the boy's room. It was not a very special-looking place. Sam had fought tooth and nail to get himself a double bed instead of one of the normal smaller ones. The bedding was dark green, as was the round fur carpet on the floor. A white Ikea KALLAX shelf covered one of the walls of the room. The bottom two of the four levels were filled with boxes and the upper shelves Sam had filled with virtually all the loose belongings he owned. School books and papers, video games, books, framed pictures of his friends and family, a half-eaten bag of crisps, exactly 37 empty soda bottles, a half-dead cactus, and much more were encased in these eight boxes.  
In one corner of the room were a beige two-seater sofa drowned in dirty laundry and a black bean bag with a serious dog hair problem in front of it. The desk, pushed in front of a window (covered with both Venetian blinds and blackout curtains), had gained a new life as a television stand. More textbooks and various papers took up most of the free space on the desk, even the Playstation 4 was used as a shelf. If we had the physical hands in this world and could open the drawers of the drawer in the last corner of the room, we would find Sam's clothes, as well as large amounts of dog supplies and food in the top drawer. The corgi Thor’s sleeping place was, in theory, a (very comfortable) green dog bed at the foot of the bed, but in practice, it was about 70% of Sam's bed.

Brushing his teeth and washing his face made Sam feel a little more alive. Or well, at least that stale taste was gone. Unlike the first time, changing clothes didn't require much effort anymore. Somehow, Sam had always imagined living with plaster was much harder. He remotely wanted it to be more difficult.

"Samuel. Zachariah. Woodson. "  
Sam's first thoughts could be summed up in two words. "Oh no." The boy was about 78% sure he would end up being Rose's new punching bag. Slowly, Sam looked up from his lonely teacup. Rose had cut her hair. The black hair that previously had reached her upper back had now been cut into a bob cut. If the girl hadn't looked so murderous, Sam would have praised the new style. Behind Rose were Vilma and Ben. When he saw the Belgian girl almost on the verge of crying, Sam quickly fought himself up from the chair and dragged himself to hug Vilma, despite the pain caused by the fast movements. The girl immediately responded to his hug with a tight squeeze. Sam let out a small wheeze as Vilma hugged him a bit too hard, the boy still had colourful bruises from the previous "squeeze".  
"You asshole!" Vilma withdrew from Sam's arms and immediately followed with a punch to the boy's left arm. Sam tried not to show in his face the pain following the hit. After all, this treatment was well deserved.  
“Let this be the last time we hear about you being hospitalized by Nile's little brother’s magazines! From gossip magazines, Sam! Do you realize how we felt? We come back to school from the holiday but you aren’t anywhere and then your tech buddy, Nile, comes to our table for dinner and tells us to say hello and wishes for a quick recovery! And we didn't know what she was talking about. Sam, we've been friends for as long as we've been in this school! And yet you didn't tell. You didn't tell us! "

Vilma's outburst had succeeded in collecting several curious pairs of eyes from the tables around them. The foursome was early in the cafeteria and the worst rush had not yet begun. Still, there were enough people to make this all a bit awkward. The girl was breathing heavily now, her cheeks wet with tears. Sam had to look away. Instead of answering, the boy began to gently waddle himself back to his chair. It was easier said than done. He had no crutches to support himself. Ben realized his friend's problem and rushed to his rescue. After getting the younger boy into a sitting position, Ben lightly wrapped his arms around hi.  
“Good to see that you're fine. We were all so worried, ”Ben pulled a chair beside Sam and Vilma and Rose sat across the table. The atmosphere was troubling, to say the least.  
"Now would be a damn good time to start explaining," Rose announced after a short silence. Sam nodded, dug out his cellphone, and began to quickly write a summary of the events that followed the autumn holiday. After a moment of consideration, Sam decided to forget to mention the hearing aids now hidden behind his boy's hair. Now was not the time to trouble his friends with his new difficulties. Pity was the last thing Sam wanted his friends to feel for themselves.

Pity filled the look of those sitting at the table as Ben read Sam's writing aloud. Vilma seemed ready to start crying again, but she managed to keep herself together.  
"Oh Sammy…", she sighed and reached over the table to take Sam's hand. “The most important thing is that you are okay. At least mostly. ”  
Sam decided not to correct his friend.

~ ^ ~

Benjamin Boge, or as the whole world called him, Ben, had never been told that he was a particularly good friend. He wasn't emotionally wise the smartest guy, and the emotions and characters of other people weren't the most obvious things to him. It just happened to be his personality. Still, he would always say that he understood Sam on a different level than most of the other people. It took great effort from his part to leave his friend alone. All Ben's instincts told him to fo was just to grab the smaller boy and try to keep him away from the stares of the others. But Sam wouldn't like it. It was obvious. Ben was forced to look at how the blue-eyed boy was trying to pretend as if nothing had happened. Sam was Ben's best friend. There was no doubt about it. Sam would never need to hide anything from him. If it was up to Ben, they would always be best friends.  
The boy's shoulders were slumped and his head hung low. Ben wished he could see Sam's face, but he sat behind him, not by his side. Next to Sam, Vilma glanced anxiously between Sam and Ben. It was the fourth lesson that Sam had just sat still, staring at nothing in particular. The boy only reacted when touched and as the class volume increased, Ben could even swear the boy’s shoulders would slump even more. Ben wanted to scream. He wanted to do something. Just watching this happen angered him. The feeling of powerlessness was one of the most terrifying emotions a person can experience in a video game, his big sister once explained. Karoline knew a lot about people, more than Ben would ever know. She was, of course, right. Ben hated that feeling. He wanted it to stop. He wanted Sam to talk to him.

With the clock ringing to signal the lunch break, Sam was gone faster than anyone with crutches could logically move. Glancing at each other, Ben, Rose and Vilma also headed for the cafeteria. On the ground floor, they could recognize a small hooded figure from the crowd as he was waiting in the queue behind them. How had Sam arrived after them even if he had left earlier, remained a mystery to them.  
"Sam!" Rose shouted to get her friend's attention. No reaction. Ben as the tallest one tried to wave his hands to gain Sam’s attention. He was still unresponsive.  
"Is he avoiding us?" Rose asked with a frown on her face. Vilma glared at the other girl.  
“Sam is clearly on his phone and there is a lot of noise here. Let’s get his attention in the cafeteria ”  
Despite several shouts and waving hands, Sam didn't come to their table. All their efforts had fallen on deaf ears. Eventually, they decided to leave the boy alone.

~ ^ ~

"Sorry to disturb your lesson, but can I borrow Sam for a while?"  
Every self-respecting (and school-attending) young person knew that getting called by the principal would never mean anything good. Nicky had always been a very nice woman, but the students were still afraid they might have angered her in one way or another. However, when the principal asked you to come with her, one goes with her. With the biology teacher nodding approvingly, Sam didn't have other option but to pack his stuff and follow the principal. His day was already ruined anyway. As if it wasn't ruined right in the beginning, but it was even more ruined than Sam had feared it would be. He had expected the breakfast to be a little emotional, but the awkward silence that followed was horrible. The silence had been followed by something even worse. The noise. The hallways of the school were full of talking youngsters, and Sam had realized it was the first time in nearly a month that he had been surrounded by this much noise. The hearing aids hiding under his hood did not help the situation at all. They simply inflated all the sound and left a painful throb between the boy's temples. Sam had never suffered from migraine before, although he knew it was a common problem in his father's family. This was the kind of feeling the boy had always imagined this painful sounding condition to be like.  
Lessons were more comfortable than breaks. The teachers did not allow the noise to rise unacceptably high, for which Sam was very grateful. Still, the background noise disturbed him. His ear doctor had warned about this. His hearing aids were temporary and he was not used to them yet. Working with background noise requires practice. All the boy's concentration was spent on listening to the teacher's voice instead of the conversation behind him. Sam could not take painkillers before afternoon. By the time the bell rang indicating that it was time for lunch, Sam had lost his patience. He almost ran out of the class to the nearest restroom. Hearing aids found their place in his pocket. In the cafeteria, his friends did not come to eat in his table.

"Everything's fine, don't worry," Nicky smiled warmly. "I would like you to meet someone."  
Now Sam was worried. Who did the principal want the boy to meet?  
"I was troubled by your situation," Nicky explained as the duo stepped into the elevator. "It's the school's job to be supportive of its students in every situation, and especially in situations as, hmm, tricky as yours."  
They stepped out of the elevator. Her office’s door was right next to the elevator.  
“As I was researching for ways that I hope will help you and make it easier for you to study and live here, I thought that maybe peer support could help. Unfortunately - or well, fortunately, but surely you understand my point - there are only a few students with hearing loss in our school. However, they are all either born with hearing loss or are significantly older than you and I thought that someone a bit closer to your age group could be a nicer solution for the longer term”, Nicky opened the door and gestured for the boy to go inside. In the same armchair, Sam had most likely fallen asleep the night before, had now a boy sitting in it. He looked about the same age as Sam. However, Sam was sure the boy wasn't in second grade. He was probably in third. The age of twelve didn’t seem very fitting. Now Sam realized what this was all about.

“Sam, this is Conor. Conor, this is Sam. Conor lost part of his eyesight two years ago, ”Sam wasn't surprised. The round sunglasses and white stick told a lot. The boy's face seemed politely apologetic, perhaps a little uncomfortable. He had turned his entire upper body towards the newcomers. The principal's little encouraging gesture may have been out of Sam’s field of vision, but to Conor, the message got through.  
“Hi, Sam. I know we have a little bit different backgrounds, but if you have a problem with anything or if you just need an outsider to listen to you, then I can try to help my best, ”Conor stood up. He was taller than Sam. “So no pressure or anything, I don't want to make you tell your life story right now, or something. I just wanted to introduce myself and let you know that you also have the opportunity for 'peer support' here at school, ”Conor continued after a moment of silence. Sam couldn't help but stare at the taller boy. He wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. After all, he didn't need any peer support. Right? What would talking to Conor help? If Sam wanted to talk, he would talk to his frien- oh. They didn't know. They didn't need to know. Not yet. Not so long as it was just a problem and a burden. Did Sam want to talk? He couldn't even speak. What would opening up to an unknown kid help with anything? Sam had obviously never heard of therapy, peer support, or just new acquaintances.

“What if we do this? You two may skip the rest of the class and get to know each other a bit. I’ll be in touch with your teachers, "Nicky smiled gently. Well if that was an option. The release from the noise of the lesson sounded promising. Sam glanced at Conor, who just shrugged with a small grin on his face. Although Sam did not know, the older boy looked at him instead of the principal, despite the position of his head. Sam wouldn't have to talk if he didn't want to. But someone who could understand that sounded weirdly good.  
“You don't have to if you don't want to. I realize that stuff like this is not always the easiest topic. ”  
You know what? Screw it! It didn't matter anymore. Sam tried his best as a sign to Conor that agreed to go out with an unknown boy to talk about his problems. Or something like that. There was nothing strange about it. Conor grinned.  
"Cool! Come on, I know just the place! ”


	3. Top 10 ways to get into theraphy

Chapter 2  
Top 10 ways to get into therapy

"Sorry to bother you, but could I borrow Conor for a moment?"  
Conor McLean, despite all his quirks, was not a very well-known name in the corridors of Aisling. He every once in awhile gained some attention with his dark glasses and white cane, but only a few sought out his company and he himself sought out company from even fewer. This had always been and always will be the case. Unlike Conor’s friends Thomas and Gabriel, he had no friends other than the duo. And that was just ok. Conor was very pleased with his situation. Even when the others were elsewhere. Thomas worried about his friend. Thomas tended to be a little worried about anything and anytime.  
“And without a good reason”, Conor remarked whenever it was brought up. Everything was fine just as it was at the moment.

Nicky's request came completely off the bush.  
Conor didn't know if he was excited or terrified. The chemistry class had so far been deadly boring; Conor had moved on to play Stardew Valley quickly after the start of the lesson. While packing his stuff, Conor had tried to go through all the possible times that the wrong person (aka. Teacher) could have seen his recent computer activities during lessons. Conor always sat on the right side of the class, mainly to be able to keep an eye on teachers' movements in the classrooms. They were like sharks. Conor already had too many negative marks as it were.

"How are you doing with your studies?" Nicky asked as Conor sat in an armchair next to the principal's desk. Conor didn’t know if the woman was as close with all her students, or if it was because of their numerous meetings a couple of years ago.  
"Quite well?" Conor toyed with the scarf hanging around his neck.  
"Geography and Irish too?" the look in the woman's eyes was as knowing as ever. Nicky never condemned. At least not Conor. He had barely passed the last few tests in Irish.  
“Remember to practice as much as possible. You can do it! ” Nicky sat in his own chair. “However, that is not the reason you are here. I have a special request for you.”

~ ^ ~

The common room was empty, with the exception of a couple of older students who were trying to write an essay and watch Netflix at the same time. The situation was not surprising. It was one o'clock, and everyone had either a lesson or better things to do than hanging out in the common room. The last exam season of the fall was just around the corner. Sam glanced at the boy walking beside him. Conor was a little taller than Sam. He was wearing a grey Hard Rock Cafe Helsinki hoodie, and he had a blue-grey scarf wrapped around his neck. The first thought of many Harry Potter fans would have been “Ravenclaw!”. Whether Conor was aware of the connection was a mystery to Sam (Yes, yes Conor was aware. He was a proud fan). He did not use his white cane. Instead, Conor had folded it in and stuffed it in his hoodie's pocket. Sam tried not to think about the long slender fingers that were wrapped around his forearm.  
“The corner sofa is fine? It’s my friends' and my favourite”, Conor broke the silence. Sam couldn't not be a little surprised. Still, he nodded in response and together they walked (or Conor walked, Sam made his way supported by his crutches) to the cherry red couch. Sometimes Sam wondered who had been in charge of decorating this common room. Unlike the other common rooms, which were appointed for each grade, this space seemed unplanned. Nothing really matched. Maybe the place had been a cemetery of surplus furniture before?

“Alrighty, now the best couch in the house has been conquered”, Conor sighed contentedly as he sunk into the couch and found a comfortable position. When pleased with his placement, the boy raised his feet to the white coffee table. He was right. The couch was indeed very comfortable, and after a little experimental wiggle, Sam dared to try sinking deeper into the couch and raise his cast-free foot on the table next to Conor's crossed legs. The boy wore self-dyed-looking green sneakers. Sam pointed the shoes as grandly as possible, and when he was sure Conor saw the gesture, he pressed his thumb and forefinger together and showed the sign to the other boy. Conor grinned broadly.  
"Thanks. One of my friends is studying crafts, so he dyed these with me. I like green.”  
Sam didn’t know how to sign “me too”, so he pulled out his phone and wrote what he had to say to the notebook app.  
“Good taste,” Conor stated after reading the message. And laughed right after. “Isn’t it a little strange that a half-blind person speaks to a half-deaf person who writes to a half-blind person. Someone might think we are completely normal, exaggerating children. ”  
Sam smiled in response. Sam could also see the comedy of the situation. Something in Conor's voice said that this had been declared to the boy before. A question came to his mind, which he wrote for Conor to read.

"Yeah, straight to the point, right?" Conor smiled and raised his eyebrows playfully. Sam wasn't quite sure if the boy was really amused, or if he was covering up something. “My right eye is completely blind. Nothing Daredevil-the whole-world-is-on-fire rubbish. It sees nothing. 0/20. Nada. As for my left eye, I have some bloody strong prescriptions in these glasses. But with them, I can see just fine. I have a little hypersensitivity to light, but I still _see_. I can still read. I know what the world, people and everyone close to me looks like. I can decide on my favourite colour. In that sense, I'm really lucky. I have met a lot of blind people who cannot see much of anything. Or they don't see anything at all. But on the other hand, I guess it's better to not see anything than to see a little and deep down you know what you're missing. But hey, my philosophies are not the point of this discussion. How much do you hear? ”  
The counter-question was obvious. Still, it managed to surprise Sam. He really had to think about his answer for a while before he started tapping it on the screen of his phone again.

_Surprisingly, I guess… when I heard (heh, I heard) about it, I thought you wouldn’t all just disappear. That was the case for a while. But after all, it all started to get better and I started to hear really loud noises. The slamming of the doors, the crying of children (and even adults), all that kind of fun. By the way, btw is really depressing when the only thing you hear is screaming children. If you came now and tore those pieces of plastic out of my ears, I would probably still be able to hear and understand the mouth if you spoke at a normal volume and without a really ridiculous accent. Thank you, part of my family is home to the Scottish meadows, so I have some sort of experience translating a ton of Hebrew into England. Right now I can hear the speech of those students. I hear this shocking tap sound coming from this keyboard (Remind me to go put it silent somewhere in between). But if there was background noise here, even if we were in the canteen, this instrument would only increase the roll of everything, and I wouldn't be able to tell much more if you weren't right next door and raised your voice. But, this could be much worse, as you said._

“Mmm, you’re really calm about all this. When it had been a month for me, I was still completely broken. ”  
Sam laughed unhappily and started writing again.  
_Listen, I'm anything but calm. I have only had a lot of time to develop a good mask. My parents are crazy from worry, and I don’t want to bother them. Nothing feels any better than it did a few weeks ago. Hearing aids do help, but when you take them off in the evening, everything is too quiet._  
Conor read Sam's message but didn't respond. Anxiously, Sam dared to look up from his now empty fingers and look at the boy sitting next to him. He didn’t really know what he had expected to see, but the reality still came as a small shock. Conor looked at Sam for a few heartbeats and if the dark sunglasses hadn’t covered the boy’s eyes, Sam could have seen they had a sad but understanding look. And before Sam even had time to figure out what was happening, the sunglasses were gone.

Conor's eyes were dark blue, highlighted with small lighter spots and surrounded by thick lashes. Sam’s first thought was “Why would Conor hide those?”. The answer, however, was obvious. Only the boy's left eye was bright. The right one was covered with a milky white coat, under which the iris stood out only weakly.  
“Sometimes it feels like darkness is starting to spread. If my room is too dark at night, I start to feel like the left one is also out of the game. I will never see anything again.”  
Silence took over the corner of the common room. At the other end of the space came the sound of a quarrel between RuPaul's Drag Race competitors. Both boys had delved into their own gloomy thoughts. Dark and silence. Both had always been concepts that terrified people.  
“Damn, let's not get so gloomy here,” Conor finally puffed and pressed the sunglasses back to cover his eyes. “Now let’s talk about something more positive! What are you studying here? I play piano and violin and I desperately trying to compose my own music… ”

~ ^ ~

Sam, Conor noticed after sitting with the boy for a while was a surprisingly good company. They had ended up talking with Whatsapp messages, just to make things easier. Since this is a very serious and true story of healing and friendship, and not a “romantic” One Direction texting fanfic that was found in the deepest depths of Wattpad, it is pointless for us to go through the duo’s messages. It would also violate their privacy. In a nutshell, Sam had first talked about his studies in theatre technology, which had led Conor to recount his own adventures full of video games during lessons. This, in turn, had gotten Sam to point out how Conor shares his name with one of the protagonists of Detroit Become Human. This, in turn, had turned into a momentary imitation and was followed by an in-depth discussion about dogs, their elegance, and whether it was possible for androids to like dogs. Neither of them could have foreseen how much fun they would have together. Conor had consciously ended up isolating himself from his peers. Sam hadn’t had a decent conversation for almost a month. If Nicky could see the duo now, she would be really proud of both the boys and herself. She had managed to get rid of her two sorrows at once. The newly deaf Sam would surely get the support he needed from Conor, and for Conor, isolated from almost all the students, it would the opportunity to open up to new people. The principal smiled contentedly as she watched from the door of the common room as Conor played some role that made Sam smile. It was always a good sign. Nicky glanced at the duo one last time and then turned to walk down the hall. She still had a lot of paperwork to do.


End file.
